The Broken People
by MeyRevived2
Summary: Seishiro speaks of his trade's reflections on his love life, then gives an example. SeiFu yum yum. PWP in a sense


**Disclaimer: **I don't own X.

**Warning: **obviously, due to the R rating and the fact that I've written 'Lemon' in the description, there's going to be graphic description of a sexual activity. So don't be alarmed when members start popping out of no where…oh and it's kinda dark and evil.

* * *

**The Broken People**

When I was a teenager and hormones began distorting my mind from the usual Sakurazukamori training my mother sat me down and explained the facts of life to me.

"When you'll be a grown man and know what to do with the members of the other sex" she said, calmly combing her impossibly long black hair "you must never choose a mate amongst the normal people"

"Why?"

"Because you'll break their mind Seishiro darling. Your true occupation and the things that you do will make them run away from you, even report to the authorities of you"

"But the authorities know of us mother"

"Yes sweet boy" she smiled with little dark red dyed lips "but that won't stop your possible mate from running to the media and talking to them might they reach that level of shock and disagreement with what you do"

"Ah"

"For us there is only the broken people to choose our mates from" she looked out the window she leaned against, another sweet smile on her tiny lips.

"The broken people mother?"

"Yes Seishiro, those whose life ran off track, those consumed by their shattering reality until they no longer care when they walk straight into the lion's den"

She spoke no more, rising off her seat to work on her delicate little bonsai cherry tree.

She kept that miserable thing out of no particular reason, to my childish eyes, perhaps whenever she trimmed it's limbs viciously she took some strange revenge at our tree. Perhaps.

Many years I've dwelled upon this instruction she gave me "Choose the broken people". What does it mean? What did it say about my father? Did I really care about my father?

When I met Subaru I did not plan on him being a mate yet, not when I was so young and he was only 9 years old, no, I did that out of sheer cruelty.

Later when I saw him in the train station I remembered the child and admired what a beautiful youth he had grown to be.

That's when I began forming a plan to break him so that he will one day become my mate, a broken man.

He is broken now and if it wasn't for this Battle I would have taken him by now.

Instead I sit and muse over my own destiny. I haven't got very long before my time comes.

I never look for a mate, not like mother did to produce me anyway, not like those who seek someone to marry and build a family with.

I looked for playthings, pets, hobbies and nothing more.

I chose to venture the red light districts of Tokyo or the cities I traveled to find my prey.

Most of the whore weren't broken but then again they, and I, knew I did not come there to look for a proper mate.

Broken people I could find amongst the drugged and those who supply their chemical needs. Many men and women fell to my net of lies and flattery, following the light I shone at them only to discover it was leading them to a bottomless pit of sakura petals and the tree's imprisoning bark.

These young lives, so fresh and brilliant, all gnawed into grey and misery by their little addictions fascinated me to no end. They stole the medical needles from my clinic and robbed my apartment like locusts but I did not mind; their punishment would come when my interest in them was spent.

My hunger was quenched in them, only to pop back up into my consciousness once more and quite quickly at that.

I looked for prey far more complicated, far worth of my attention and efforts then this residue of society.

* * *

In my Kamui I found exactly that sort of prey.

Powerful more then I will ever be, handsome, cunning, manipulative, a puzzle made of so many pieces, a chameleon, a thing made completely by destiny; 'Kamui' was a treasure to my hungry for stimulation intellect.

But he was not broken. At all. In fact, he was so complete the idea of catching him made me imagine pincers attempting to grab a ball, the round shape squeezing out of the grab easily.

Despite the constant beckoning glances he sent at me, despite the little teases, 'Kamui' was beyond my reach.

Of course I could crush through my mother's instructions and touch him but I preferred not to. I preferred to sit back and watch, watch until he broke.

He had to break eventually, so was destiny in this damned Battle; everyone must break before they play their part to the fullest. Perhaps whatever sits up there is as sadistic and cruel as me.

"Who guarantees the sanity of God?" asked a character in some manga I flipped through. Despite my great denouncement (Thesaurus!) of the character's nature this sentence touched a chord in me who is doomed to fade away soon.

'Kamui' broke eventually, a small crack in his self confidence and vanity it was, but a crack is the beginning of a break.

* * *

I lay back in a large leather sofa inside our lair's rooms, leisurely sipping a cup of tea the blond water master poured me.

This water master, another intriguing character, his whole behavior says 'don't mind me, I'm a fool' but in honest there are infinitely more complex layers to him then what he shows.

He is so complete that scheming to break him will give me a headache and waste my precious time.

'Kamui' walked, no, limped into the room in search of something. I counted the wounds and cuts on his face and body, noted the hunched posture of a battered and fatigued man, I guessed the somewhat dimmed and tired look in his eyes.

He was broken.

He fought the DoH's Kamui and another Seal, as our dear computer girl bothered to display on her monitor for us, and lost miserably.

Coming up with some silly excuse to walk out of his defeat with his head high, he managed to get out of the scene without too much shame burdening him.

The fact that he did indeed lose that fight and that he lost it to one of the Seal's least powerful fighter and their Kamui who, he kept bragging, did not fully achieve the most of his powers, must have been a searing humiliation to our leader.

I forced my vicious predator's snarl into a kind smile and got off my couch to near him.

Hearing my shoes click on the marble floor, my 'Kamui' who was consumed in rummaging our first aid cabinet, turned his weary eyes to me.

"Come 'Kamui'" I purred like a kind uncle "allow me to bandage your wounds, I believe you have some which are out of your reach"

He glared at me in silence.

I saw a nature program on one of the western nature channels. It showed an elderly wolf trying to preserve his status amongst his pack members. When any youngster or female tried to comfort this old fighter whose old age began betraying him the wolf would growl at them and glare them away. The same glare I saw in my 'Kamui's eyes now.

Brushing the warning away, I gently guided him away from the cabinet and ordered him to sit on the soft leather sofa. While he limped over there I resumed his rummaging until I found all I needed.

I folded his pants up, gently removing torn fabric edges whenever they clung to a wound by congealed blood and began attending the cuts and gapes in his flesh.

My 'Kamui' did nothing even as I pulled shrapnel out of his flesh making the wounds bleed all over again.

As I knelt at his feet patiently attending him I noted his eyes resting on me. I could not look up for too long but I could feel how they stared at me vacantly, a lost and untrusting child staring at an adult trying to help him. He was like some war child resisting to show any gratitude towards his savior yet not resisting the saving itself.

I moved to his arms that were the most damaged in all his body.

Taking up the white medical band aid I closed the gaping slash in his mid arm and the one by his shoulder.

If it wasn't his bitter defeat it was probably the overwhelming pain of these injuries which lead my 'Kamui' to be so gloomy.

My testing time came when I treated the cut under my Kamui's right eye. As I gently cleaned the thin debris dust and congealed blood from the cut itself my 'Kamui's eyes stared at me endlessly.

He stared into my eyes, piercing me with his powerful demand for me to reveal my true intensions in this sudden kindness.

I brushed the look away, putting on my fiercest 'concerned doctor' appearance to delude him.

By the time I finished attending that wound the dark red eyes were no longer suspicious but lost and weary again. My plan will work.

I smiled at him and softened my voice to the lowest and most velvet-like quality I could achieve "I need you to turn around now 'Kamui', I noted you have several cuts on your back"

He stared at me for a moment before obeying. He turned around to kneel on the seat of the sofa, supporting himself against it's back with his strong arms.

I fought to contain a large snarling smile from breaking on my face at the sight of such complete naïve trust from my 'Kamui'.

Savoring the delightful tease of my fingers brushing his skin, I gently removed his t-shirt from him. His strong back dotted by small debris scratches and wounds, broken by youth's last acne spots, carved like a Roman statue, made my hunger flare up like wildfire.

There weren't that many wounds on his back to be honest. A long but shallow scratch, where the gap between his shirt and his jeans left his skin bare and defenseless. A continuing gap from the injury on his right shoulder, not much really.

I turned him with his back to me because this is how I will catch him, this is how I will take him to be mine. My beautiful powerful prey, my graceful rebellious and broken 'Kamui', you silly boy.

Even a supreme predator should never walk injured into the territory of another.

To gain better access I too climbed the sofa, it's large roomy seat supplying enough space for the both of us. I tend his wounds with slow patience, testing my self control.

My 'Kamui' relaxed under the touch, shutting off his alarming senses and lowering his guard. He is, after all, nothing but an 18 year old youth, his knowledge of life is limited.

Finished with my healing job and free for my prey, I rubbed my hands silently to warm them against the cold air blowing into our room from the computer girl's refrigerator of a cave.

I brushed the tips of my fingers against his bare skin then pressed the rest of my palms against the strong muscles. They flew up from between his shoulder blades to his powerful shoulder muscles, flowing down his arms while avoiding touch with the bandages I so loyally applied.

'Kamui's head rose a little, a glance shot at me from across his shoulder. His eyes were focused and sharp again, so unlike mine in their shroud of lust and hunger.

He smiled at me, inviting me to move on while giving me a 'you sneaky little lecherous bastard' glare.

Taking the invitation happily I lean forward and plant a row of kisses to his wide shoulders, running the tip of my tongue on the tanned skin with long wet strokes.

He moans and leans into the touch, away from the rest of my body.

I wrap my arm across his waist, pinning his behinds to my demanding crotch and it's pulsing bulge.

Wasting no time, I quickly unbutton his trousers and slide my palm in to stoke his growing arousal. He leans his head back on my shoulder offering me the length of his neck.

I nibble at the skin of his cervix (Thesaurus!) and bite down from time to time to make him hiss between his pleased groans.

He is exposed now as I peal layers of fabric off his round inviting behind. My fingers stroke his soft skin then cup the fatty flesh, moving along the crack between the cheeks and slide a finger into him.

I am perfectly aware of my uncut fingernail as it scratches his insides, I offer no soft pseudo-romantic act and he is fully aware of it.

Still he protests, attempting to pull away from me. But I have him trapped between my locking embrace and the sofa's back. He has no where to run.

I take his hand and place it on my covered erection, first using it to stroke myself with him then hinting 'Kamui' to remove the berries between us.

He snatches his hand away, nipping at my fingers on his shoulder. I lean in by his hear, licking then biting down a little harshly. "Do as I say 'Kamui'" I whisper hoarsely

He fidgets on the leather producing fake raspberry noises and shoots an unsatisfied glare at me.

To please him into submission I stoke his member yet again. Long strokes up and down his shaft melt him back to cooperation.

His hands are warm on the black fabric of my expensive suit, covered by a thin film of sweat as they touch my skin. I notice the wet patch the other palm leave on the leather of the sofa he leans on. Is he nervous or excited? Whatever feeling it is it only serves my purpose better.

I give no warning before I penetrate him, nor do I prepare him with any kind of lubricant to save him the future soreness afterwards. He claws at the thick black leather and muffles a scream into a choked groan. I ignore it and thrust into him once more.

I bite down gently into his left shoulder, running my tongue on the pinched flesh between my teeth. Pumping his erection I make sure he will enjoy this as I do.

He is hot and tight with pain and tension, it only serves against him as it moves me closer and closer to my climax.

Suddenly he loosens up and I am deprived of my great delight. Even in this disadvantage he finds a way to pay me back for my misbehavior. It wouldn't be half as fun if it wasn't for his small rebellion attempts for me to quench.

He moans, leans forward and raise his hips to take me as deeply as he could. He must still hurt despite his inviting behavior, it makes me wonder over my 'Kamui's joys.

I allow a few muffled inevitable groans to escape my lips as my pleasure rises near it's edge. I move faster within him, stroking him faster.

Our bodies make soft bumping sounds in the end of every thrust. The leather creaks under 'Kamui's fierce clutching.

My leader whimpers between his throatily moans, covering my palm in hot liquid dripping to the sofa when he comes.

I have no mercy for him now that he beat me to the race. I pound him so hard he muffles a few screams. I restrict nothing in my pursuit of orgasm.

I slam into him one last time in my all swiping wave of pleasure and stay there, leaning against him while I regain coherent thoughts from the haze of hormones and lust.

'Kamui' leans against the back of the sofa, catching his breath as well from it's rapid rhythm in pain and pleasure.

I lean against his ear once more and whisper with a snarl "good boy".

I detach myself from him, cleaning my hand from his essence and fold myself back into my underwear and pants.

He dresses himself as well, shooting small cunning glances at me from time to time.

"You make me want to be wounded in battle more often" he tries to throw a witty comment to stabilize this one time into a habit.

But I have no need for him anymore now that I'm satisfied. Feeling hungry, I stroll out of the room without even a glance at him.

I leave him bewildered on the sofa, wondering why I suddenly ignore him after what we just did.

I guess this is what every silly over-romantic woman feels after a one night stand won't return her calls the morning after.

Smiling to myself I leave our headquarters with a broken piece of 'Kamui' in my hand.

My mother was right; the broken are ever so more fun to toy with.

(end)


End file.
